Man for all seasons
by Loopstagirl
Summary: One year, four seasons, a prince and a warlock. What could possibly happen?
1. Spring I

**Me again! Back for another story with our fav duo! As usual, i still haven't gained ownership of our lovely boys by some magical miracle, or who knows what would end up happening. The BBC still owns everything :(**

**Thanks once again to MagicbyMerlin for their amazing beta-ing!! Couldn't have done it without you!**

Merlin felt a smile slide onto his face the minute he opened his eyes. A fresh beam of sunlight slipped through his window, bathing the bed in a soft golden light. It seemed winter had finally gone, the weak sunshine marking the beginning of spring. The young warlock had always liked the spring; everything was so fresh that it made him feel happy and alive.

Humming to himself as he dressed, Merlin greeted Gaius happily before heading out the door to work, then turned around and walked straight back in again, still happily humming away. Without saying a word, he picked up his breakfast, turned on his heel and almost skipped back out again, knowing that Gaius was watching him with a look of bemusement. Making his way down the familiar corridors, Merlin munched away on his breakfast, not being able to resist stealing a look out of the window every time he passed one, just to make sure that the sun was still shining and it hadn't all been a dream. Every time he passed someone that he knew, he couldn't resist giving him or her a cheerful 'good morning', his happiness seemingly affecting everyone. He even started doing it to people that he didn't know – that was how relieved he was that the weather had finally turned.

It wasn't that Merlin disliked the winter, far from it. But the bad weather meant that Arthur had been restricted in what he was allowed to do. No hunts in the forest for fear of pneumonia, no sword training for fear of slipping on the icy ground. The normally free prince had been wrapped up by his over protective father, and so had found his annoyance levels rising. Being with the prince almost constantly, it didn't take a genius to work out who had been on the receiving end of these bad moods. It didn't help that there hadn't even been any snow either, meaning that there was literally nothing to do.

Merlin burst through the doors to Arthur's chambers, sending them crashing into the wall behind, before he carefully shut them again. He wouldn't have knocked even if he had remembered too, knowing full well that the prince was still going to be in the land of dreams. He was. Spread across his bed, Arthur was somehow managing to take up every inch of space there was, despite his bed being huge. Smiling softly at the sight of his friend fast asleep, Merlin crossed the room to the window. Arthur looked so much younger when he was asleep, any act that he put on when he was awake gone. When he was sleeping, Arthur wasn't the crowned prince of Camelot with huge responsibilities, he was plain old Arthur.

Merlin stood watching the prince until Arthur shifted in his sleep, turning more to the window. Grinning, Merlin ripped the curtains back with a flourish, allowing the weak sunlight to fall straight onto Arthur's face.

"Good morning, sire," Merlin called cheerfully, starting to tidy up the clothes that had been dumped on the floor the night before.

"Says who?" Arthur growled back and proceeded to stick his head under the pillow.

The prince was not a morning person, that much was sure. His reaction seemed to be an automatic one, for he had not noticed the light that was dancing across the bed, indicating that his temporary imprisonment within his own castle had come to an end.

Merlin sighed when he saw what the prince had done. They had been through this battle every morning for the last few weeks. Not having anything interesting to do, Arthur had decided that there was absolutely no reason for him to get up, meaning that his poor manservant had to almost tip him out of bed each day…not an easy task.

"Arthur," Merlin said softly as he made his way over to the bed. Putting his head close to the pillow, he tensed himself, ready to move quickly.

"IT'S SUNNY!"

Yelling the last part as loud as he could, Merlin sprang back from the bed, just in time. The fist that Arthur had sent shooting out closed only on thin air, missing the warlock by inches. A sleepy head emerged from under the pillow in order to glare at his servant, followed by extremely tussled hair. Merlin had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling; it was such a sweet sight.

As Arthur glared at Merlin, his sleepy brain seemed to have finally registered what the warlock had just told him. Sitting bolt upright so sharply that Merlin, taken by surprise, stumbled back a few steps and fell over the pile of laundry that he had been just trying to tidy up. Ignoring the servant sitting in the middle of his floor, Arthur sprung out of bed and raced to the window. He stared out with an expression of longing in his face. The forest could just be seen from his window and the sun was glittering prettily in the tops of the trees, looking extremely inviting.

"We're going hunting," Arthur declared jubilantly.

Merlin stifled a groan as he climbed to his feet. He should have known that that was coming. Even if the sun had decided to grace them with its presence and make Merlin's spirits soar, having to trek silently through a forest and be snapped at every time he made the smallest noise wasn't exactly the way that he wanted to celebrate the sunshine. He had been thinking more on the lines of a picnic with Gwen and Morgana, under a nice green tree, but Arthur was not to know that.

In fact, the prince was so happy about the fact that there would no longer be a good enough reason for his father to keep him inside, that he made to stride out of his room right that instance. It would have been very impressive and regal if not for one small fact. He had only just got out of bed.

"Arthur?" Merlin started tentatively.

When the prince was in one of these moods, nothing and nobody was able to tell him what to do. Normally, that sort of authority impressed the warlock about the prince, especially as it normally involved defending someone. However, when it was he on the receiving end of them, it was not so good.

"What?" Arthur turned back to face his servant, a frown crossing his face. He wanted to be out and about _now_, not listening to Merlin going on about how slippery and dangerous it could still be outside.

Rather than responding, Merlin simply stood there and looked at Arthur rather pointedly. For a few seconds, the prince was flummoxed. Merlin could almost see his brain struggling to wake up enough to realise what was wrong. You could tell the exact second that the still sleepy prince twigged what his servant was getting at: his whole demeanour changed.

It always amazed Merlin how long it took Arthur to dress. For him, he simply rolled out of bed, grabbed the nearest clean shirt, threw the clothes on, fastened his neckerchief and that was that. Yet, for the prince, there was always the matter of deciding what to wear, then the task of getting into it. Buckles needed to be fastened in certain ways, the clothes themselves had to be put on in a certain order. It was no surprise that Arthur couldn't manage it by himself; it took ages even with two of them. But then again, Merlin often found his frustration levels rising with the prince. When Arthur wanted to go and do something, the time it took to dress was simply a nuisance and so resulting in fidgeting. Today was no different.

"If you would just stand _still_, Arthur, I'll be able to get this fastened a lot quicker, and then you can go out."

"But you're taking so long!" Arthur whined, once again shifting from foot to foot and running a hand through his golden hair, proceeding to ruffle it up even more.

Merlin sighed; he knew that he wasn't going to win when Arthur was in this mood. Abandoning the cloak that he had been _attempting_ to fasten, he pulled it away and decided that Arthur could just go without it for today. If _he_ managed to survive each day without one, then so could the prince for once. It might just be the saviour of Merlin's sanity.

The second that Merlin had moved the cloak, Arthur strode out of the room, calling back instructions for their day out. Although the sun made a clear indication that spring had arrived, he knew that he would still have to ask his father's permission before heading out for the day.

It took Merlin quite a while to retrieve the hunting gear from around the room. Not having been used for the last few months, each piece of equipment had found itself a new home in a random spot around the prince's large room. It was at times like this that Merlin realised just how big Arthur's room was and how many small and awkward hiding places that had been revealed. On more than one occasion, he had to resort to using magic when the arrows were just out of his reach, or the crossbow was lodged in so firmly that he couldn't shift it by hand alone.

Thinking that Arthur would be mad with him for taking so long, the warlock hurried out of the room, muttering a quick apology to Gwen when he nearly ran into her, and made his way to the stables as quickly as possible.

Merlin expected Arthur to already be there, having bribed some poor stable boy to saddle the horses in Merlin's absence, so it came as a surprise when there was no prince in sight. Dumping the hunting gear in a pile on the ground, Merlin set about tacking up Arthur's magnificent horse, Thunder, before turning to his own. Technically, she wasn't his, but Drift was always the horse that he used whenever Arthur's hunting habits had them travelling some distances. She was a good-natured thing, probably just as well considering the warlock's inability to stay in the saddle…

Arthur had found it hilarious the first time his servant had been dragged away hunting to discover that he couldn't ride a horse. And so the prince had taken it upon himself to teach Merlin how. It was a good thing that Drift had been patient, for Arthur certainly had not been. Teaching was definitely not one of his finer qualities, that much was for certain.

In fact, it took so long for Arthur to turn up that Merlin had both horses ready to go. He tied the end of Thunder's reigns to the edge of the stable door, but stood with Drift's loosely in his hand, softly stroking her velvety nose. Whether it was because of his magic, or just a special bond between them, Merlin knew that she wouldn't try and bolt. Thunder, on the other hand, was as impatient as his master. Murmuring softly to Drift, Merlin glanced up just in time to see the prince come running towards him, looking flushed and out of breath.

"Come on," he implored breathlessly, swinging himself gracefully up onto his mount's back and untying the reigns from the other, all in one movement. "You're going to have to thank Gaius for me later, but now, we need to move, before my father changes his mind _again._"

Unfortunately, Merlin was not as capable at getting into the saddle so gracefully, so it was only after a few minutes of spinning with one foot in the stirrup that he finally managed to pull himself up onto Drift's back. The horse, bless her, barely moved, but the prince accompanied his attempts with a mixture of amusement and impatience.

Finally, both prince and warlock were mounted, the hunting gear divided equally among them – for the horse's sake, as Arthur put it – and were trotting joyfully out of the gates.

It was a perfect spring morning, the sky was blue and the sun was shining down on the pair as they urged the horses into a gallop, leaving the confinements of the city. Arthur especially was relishing the cool breeze that was dancing through his hair and stood in his stirrups, his own excitement causing Thunder to double the pace.

Merlin gave up trying to keep up with the rushing prince and instead let Drift carry on at a pace that they were both more comfortable with. Although Arthur mocked that she was slow and couldn't keep up with any of the knights' mounts, Merlin didn't care. He felt safe on Drift's back, more than could be said for any other horse that he had the experience of riding. Not that he would mention this to Arthur, but he also felt an awful lot safer travelling at Drift's speed than the competitive nature of Thunder. In Merlin's opinion, both riders were perfectly matched with their steeds.

Just as Merlin was settling into a comfortable rhythm, Arthur came charging back, obviously hoping to take Merlin by surprise by coming up from behind. It would have worked if Drift had not pricked up her ears, alerting the warlock astride her that something was wrong. There had been too many accidents in this forest of which had nearly cost Arthur his life that Merlin automatically used magic to enhance his hearing. He expecting to here the raging roar of some magical beast, not the sound of Thunder's flying hooves and Arthur's chuckle. Therefore it was a very a disappointed prince that finally reigned his horse into a trot next to Drift, not understanding how Merlin hadn't reacted in the slightest. He was normally so easy to surprise for the reason that it took all of his servant's concentration to just stay on his horse. Knowing what was going through Arthur's head, Merlin decided to get onto safe ground as quickly as possible.

"What did you mean that I needed to thank Gaius later? What did Gaius have to do with us being allowed out?"

"You know my father," Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes to express his annoyance at the protectiveness of the king. Their distant relationship meant that the prince simply did not see why Uther was being so protective. "He kept going on about 'just because this is the first sunny day in months, it doesn't mean that everything had automatically dried up and is safe again'. It was a lost cause until Gaius stepped in and said that the fresh air would do me – I mean, _us_, good. I think he just wanted to get rid off you for a while, if you ask me."

Merlin snorted with amusement, knowing that Arthur would have had to manage to bring an insult into it somewhere. In fact, considering the way that the warlock had awoken him that morning, Merlin was sure that he was going to need to be on edge today to make sure that he wasn't taken by surprise at any point; there was normally no end to the prince's 'pranks'. Hopefully Drift would be alert enough to stop him from going too far.

Before Merlin had a chance to respond with a witty comeback to Arthur (not that he had one at that precise moment), the prince froze in the saddle. It showed how used to Arthur that Thunder was, because as soon as he felt his rider tense, the horse also froze, only his ears flickering forward. Drift had no such inclinations and started to hoof the ground, anxious to get moving again. As Merlin frantically tried to hush her, Arthur shot him a look that normally spelt out murder. The warlock didn't need to ask; he knew by Arthur's position and the fact that his hand was smoothly sliding back to where the crossbow was situated that he had spotted some prey. Now the boring bit began…

With no warning at all, a small buck shot from the trees just in front of them, darting furiously around the bushes to get away from the threat. With a war cry, Arthur urged his mount on, and before long; Thunder had carried his rider far into the trees in pursuit. It had all happened so quickly that Merlin simply sat blinking at the space that used to be a horse and rider. Knowing that there was no way he could find them now, the young warlock slid from his saddle and took up a new position by Drift's head. Gently stroking her nose, Merlin began his weekly rant about the prince. It was amazing how well a horse could listen. They didn't answer back for one thing.

"…And then he goes to hit me, knowing that I was only doing my job, and that he would complain if I hadn't woken him up in time anyway. Where is the fairness in that?"

Drift nickered comfortingly, nuzzling his hand. Smiling at the gentle creature in front of him, Merlin decided to take a risk and let go of the reigns completely. For all of his complaining about how slow she was, Arthur would certainly kill him if Drift went running off. For one long second, Merlin held his breath, wondering how the mare would react, but she was more than content to lower her head and nibble the fresh grass that had begun to grow. Another glorious sign of the end of winter was that everything had a fresh greenness to it, giving the clearing a sort of energy that made the young warlock very content. Plonking himself down on the floor by Drift's head, Merlin sighed and reached for the bag that he had been trusted to carry. It came as no surprise that Arthur had all the actual hunting equipment and Merlin had the rest of the necessities such as food and water skins.

Merlin, however, wasn't complaining. He had the excuse of not being able to find Arthur in the vast forest, and – to be honest – he was hungry. Settling himself into a comfier position, Merlin knew that he wouldn't be able to stay sitting for too long; he could already begin to feel the dampness in the grass soaking through his trousers. It was going to be a very uncomfortable ride home if he stayed sitting for long.

Diving into the bag, Merlin thanked the cooks under his breath. It wasn't that Gaius was a bad cook, but compared to the kitchen staff of the castle, he was nothing. Technically, they had prepared the food for the prince, but the fact that they had put more than enough in for the two of them made Merlin smile. He seemed to have worked himself into a favourable spot with the staff, meaning that he was often on the receiving end of food that a mere servant shouldn't have otherwise even tasted.

After eating some of the food and taking a long draught from the water skin, Merlin began to get bored. Arthur would have to come back eventually – an empty stomach would have him crawling back at some point – but until then, Merlin simply had nothing to do. He knew that it was foolish to try and find the prince in the enormous forest and that if he went searching, Arthur would make his way back to the clearing – it was almost guaranteed.

Ignoring the dampness of the ground, the warlock stretched back on the grass, leaning his head in his hands. The sun was shining down softly, bathing the whole clearing in a golden light, giving it the ironic appearance of looking magical. A cool breeze was dancing through the treetops, causing them to rustle almost soothingly, and it only took a matter of moments before Merlin found himself dozing off.

**Hmm, Merlin dozing off? Why do i get the feeling that this lovely piece of quiet won't last long. It never does with those two...**

**Please review!!! Pretty, pretty please?**


	2. Spring II

**Thank you so much to all of those of you who have taken the time to review, means so much to me. :) Here comes the next part...**

Whether he actually went to sleep, or whether he just past the time in a slumber, Merlin was not sure. All he knew was that he hadn't been aware of anything for at least some time and it was only a snuffling sound in his hair that bought him back to reality. Opening his eyes slowly, the warlock found himself eye to eye with Drift. Blowing impatiently into his hair again, Drift snorted and tried to nudge the relaxed boy up. Merlin frowned; something was clearly troubling the mare. Climbing awkwardly to his feet, Merlin grimaced as his back protested at spending so long on the hard but damp floor. Using Drift as a support as he clambered up, Merlin immediately began stroking her again, anxious to calm the obviously frightened horse.

Whilst calming her, Merlin increased all of his senses, trying to work out what was spooking her. There were no sounds nearby. Although this reassured Merlin because it meant that they were not about to be attacked by something, it also made him wonder just how far Arthur had followed the stag. Shaking off the thought, Merlin looked skywards for inspiration. Even though he was expecting a clue in the sky, he wasn't expecting the actual answer. No longer was the sky clear blue: big, black, ominous clouds had obscured the sun. To start with, Merlin was surprised that he hadn't noticed whilst lying down, but then realised that he hadn't noticed anything until Drift had stirred him.

Groaning inwardly, Merlin made sure that everything was properly secured on Drift's back and that the saddle was fastened securely. He wasn't planning on going anywhere without Arthur, but knew that as soon as the storm hit, he needed to be ready for anything. What was it Gaius always said about the spring-rain and shine? Well, that was certainly occurring. How the weather could change from so glorious to so threatening in such a short space of time was beyond the warlock. All he knew was that he needed to find Arthur and that they needed to get back to the castle, _now._

Standing anxiously by Drift's side, her reigns held loosely in his hand, Merlin scanned the surrounding area. He really hoped that Arthur had enough sense to return now that the weather had turned, but there really was no telling what went through that prince's mind. It wouldn't have surprised Merlin if Arthur went even further, _because_ the weather had turned, trying to prove some strange point to some unknown person.

After the bushes all starting to merge together because he had been staring at them for so long, the first spots of rain started to fall. At first, it was only the odd droplet here and there, but before long, it was pouring. Drenched, Merlin resumed stroking Drift's nose, noticing that she was trembling slightly. Before he had time to do anything to reassure the horse, an almighty clap of thunder vibrated through the forest, making the warlock jump. Instantly, the sky flashed in response, the lightning tearing through the air. Hypnotised, Merlin simply stood, watching in awe for a few moments, before a noise closer to home bought him out of his daze.

The sound of hooves could be heard thundering through the forest and Merlin felt a relieved smile slip onto his face. Only one horse galloped that way: Thunder. Trying to think of some witty comment to make to the prince, Merlin turned to face the sound. To his astonishment, Thunder soon emerged from the bushes, but alone. With growing horror, Merlin just about registered that the horse's back was empty before the animal bolted past. So much for being a fearsome warhorse, it was clear that the creature was absolutely terrified. As he cantered past, Merlin automatically stuck out an arm and grabbed the flying reigns, grunting with the effort of trying to still the beast. He was almost torn straight off his feet and his arm wrenched out of his socket, but by digging his heels firmly in and an added golden flash of his eyes, Thunder was brought to a stand still next to Drift, although he was breathing heavily and his eyes were rolling in their sockets.

"Arthur!" Merlin called into the surrounding area, hoping that a wet and bedraggled prince was going to suddenly come running out of the trees after his horse.

However, the silence that met Merlin's inquiry was almost expected. If Arthur had been nearby, then Thunder would have been a lot calmer than he was. Groaning at what could have possibly happened to his friend, Merlin clambered up onto Drift's back, feeling proud of his mount for how calm she was compared to Thunder.

Once mounted, Merlin reached over and grasped Thunder's reigns in his other hand, but the horse refused to move. His terror was so great that it didn't matter what the warlock attempted to do, he couldn't get Thunder to move. Not wanting to dismount only to remount again, Merlin flashed his eyes and sent the lead rope tying itself neatly to a branch nearby. With Thunder secured, Merlin urged Drift on and took off into the forest in search of his lost prince.

Dripping wet, Merlin was soon trying to shake his hair out of his eyes where it had plastered itself. The continuous thunder and lightning was starting to take its toll on Drift, but the mare bravely plundered on through the trees. The sound the rain was making on the leaves above his head and the amazing crashing of thunder meant that Merlin couldn't hear a thing, but still attempted to call for Arthur nevertheless.

His spirits soon began to sink. He was wet, cold and had left all of the food and water back in the clearing with Thunder, so no doubt they would be trampled by now. And he had no clue as to where the prince was and didn't seem any closer to finding him than when he had set off from the clearing. Cursing himself for allowing the prince to go off on his own, Merlin continued his frantic search.

It had been what felt like hours when Merlin finally saw something that gave him renewed hope. Squinting through the torrential rain, Merlin was sure that he could make out something red lying in the mud in front of him. A second look, along with the pricking up of Drift's ears, confirmed his suspicions: it was Arthur's jacket that was for sure. Allowing his gaze to wander, Merlin let out a sigh of relief, he had finally found Arthur. However, his relief was short lived when he realised that the figure was not moving.

In his haste to climb down from Drift's back, Merlin got his foot caught in the stirrup and was sent sprawling. Landing awkwardly, Merlin groaned as he found himself with a face full of mud. Lifting his head, he noticed that he had ended up right next to Arthur. Scrambling the last few yards on his hands and knees, Merlin reached his friend, calling his name the whole time.

Gently rolling Arthur over onto his back, Merlin could see a deep gash in his forehead, probably the reason that he was unconscious. Checking him over quickly, Merlin was relieved that there didn't seem to be any other apparent injuries. But the fact that he was out cold, had a nasty gash on his head and was soaked through was more than enough to create a cause for concern for the manservant.

Rising himself to his knees, Merlin attempted to lift Arthur. The fact that the prince was far more muscle than Merlin on the best of days made this no easy task, but with his dead weight and the sodden clothes, the warlock could only lift him a small way before dropping him back onto the ground with a squelch. Drift trotted over and nudged the back of Merlin's head gently, clearly indicating that he needed to get a move on.

"I know, I know," Merlin told her distractedly, not really noticing that he was talking to a horse again. "I can't lift him though. Unless..."

An idea sprung, unbidden, into the warlock's mind as he gazed down upon the prince. If Arthur really was unconscious, then it was adamant that he got back to the castle and out of the wet clothes as fast as possible. And to do that would have to involve some form of magic.

Checking once again to make sure that Arthur was aware of nothing, Merlin muttered a quick spell under his breath and with a flash of his eyes, levitated Arthur into the air. The effort involved was tremendous, so it was with a thankful sigh that Merlin finally released the spell, with Arthur slumped precariously over Drift's back. Climbing up more awkwardly than normal, Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, allowing him to hold the reigns and the prince up at the same time. Drift needed no prompting, as soon as both of the boys were on her back, she set off back in the direction of the clearing.

Trotting slowly so as not to dislodge Arthur, Drift navigated her way through the trees. Merlin was amazed; he had been so focused on finding his friend that he had paid no attention in what direction that had come. Drift, it soon transpired, knew exactly where she was going. It took them not nearly as much time to reach the clearing than it had to find the prince. Thunder was still tied to the tree, pawing the ground in fright every time the thunder echoed throughout the forest. Lowering Arthur gently to the ground, Merlin noted with relief that the rain had started to ease and the thunder was not quite as regular. The storm was beginning to pass, although how much damage it had caused still remained to be seen.

Deciding that there wasn't a lot that he could do until Arthur woke up, Merlin set about lighting a fire. Although, in all honesty, it only took a flash of his eyes, and the flames started to dance merrily, their warmth sinking into the warlock and making him feel a lot better. Positioning Arthur closer to the fire, Merlin sat watching his friend, feeling hopeless. He knew so little of healing that he could do nothing, whether by magic or not, apart from waiting and hoping that the fire was drying the prince in the same way that it was for the warlock.

The storm had completely blown over by the time that Arthur began to stir. The sun had reappeared, although it was only to stay for while. They had been out for a lot longer than Merlin thought, and the sun was beginning to glide over the horizon, making the shadows from the fire twirl mysteriously around the makeshift camp. Merlin had been watching the flames, mesmerised, when he heard a soft groan coming from the prince. Crouching by his side almost instantly, Merlin was immensely relieved when Arthur's eyes started to flutter.

"Arthur? Arthur, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

"Stop shouting, Merlin," Arthur groaned, the words pounding through his already sore head.

With an amazing effort, the prince managed to force his eyes open and almost jumped in surprise when he saw Merlin's vivid blue ones only inches from his own. Luckily, as soon as Arthur opened his eyes, Merlin rocked back on his heels, distancing himself from the prince. His normal goofy smile was in place, but Arthur had seen the look in his eyes. He had obviously been out of it for quite some time.

"What happened?" the servant asked curiously. "Thunder returned on his own at the beginning of the storm and it took us ages to find you. I finally found you face down, unconscious, in the mud, and between Drift and I, we got you back here. How did you end up out of it in the first place?"

"The stupid horse reared," Arthur muttered, glaring at the said horse, who was now quite happily munching on a fresh clump of grass now that the storm had passed. "The first clap of thunder spooked him and he reared. Before I realised what he was doing, I found myself thrown off. Then I woke up here."

"Now who is the damsel in distress?" Merlin responded cheekily, the reference going back to when Arthur had been trying to teach him to ride. Arthur shot him a mock glare as he struggled to sit up, but found himself grinning anyway. After weeks of boredom, the day had certainly made an interesting change.

"How come Thunder reared, and yet Drift was fine?" he grumbled, more to himself than Merlin, but the servant responded anyway.

"Because she's a much better horse than anyone gives her credit for. Aren't you, sweetie?"

Arthur turned to look at his servant, his eyebrows raised in amusement, but Merlin didn't notice; he was too busy stroking Drift and talking to her gently. A snort of amusement erupted from the prince before he had time to cover it up and Merlin turned to look at him, the accusation burning in his eyes.

"Just because your horse is too frightened -" he begun, somewhat viciously. Arthur quickly raised his hand, cutting off the warlock, and smiled gently at his friend.

"Come on, you idiot. We need to be getting back before the king sends out the search parties. It's getting late."

Motioning to Merlin, the servant crossed the clearing and grasped Arthur's arm, attempting to pull him to his feet. What he hadn't banked on though was Arthur not even attempting to help, and so resulted in Arthur raised to a crouch and Merlin lying face down in the mud.

"Now no one will ask questions if we're both muddy," Arthur stated smugly, and with one fluid movement, rose himself to his full height. "What are you doing lying down, _Mer_lin? We need to go!"

"Yes, _sire_," Merlin grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and gazing down at the mud splattered clothes with an expression close to disgust.

Grinning, Arthur walked slowly over to where Thunder stood tethered, practically glaring at the horse. Stretching up to untie the rope, Arthur frowned. Merlin may be slightly taller than him, but it was so high that there was no way that even he could reach it.

"Merlin?" he asked, looking back to where his servant was putting out the fire and collecting the rest of their belongings. "How on earth did you tie these all the way up there?"

"Err…."


	3. Summer I

**Here comes the next season! thanks to all of you who took the time to review Spring!**

The dusty land that used to consist of lush green fields, trickling rivers and streams, all looked the same for as far as the eye could see. Everything was brown and dying, the constant drought taking its harsh toll on the normal paradise. An unearthly silence had fallen over Camelot; even the traders had retreated into their homes, trying to tempt any coolness that might be hiding somewhere. Children were unnaturally quiet, too hot to play. Adults were in a state of stupor, no one was braving the streets to sell or buy any merchandise. Guards were posted at every well and water pump, sweating profusely in their armour. There was no fear of the water being stolen though; it was too hot to go outside.

Only two figures could be seen picking their way through the wasted landscape. The horses that they were leading had their heads down, and even from a distance could be seen to be breathing heavily, struggling to keep going in the heat. Their leaders were faring no better. In short sleeves and their trousers rolled up to try and tempt the non existent breeze, Arthur and Merlin kept planting one foot in front of the other, determined to make it back to the castle before the heat claimed them. Every movement was monotonous and a huge effort. Uther had sent Arthur to the outlying villages after a dispute had come to light about the water sources. Two villages were in a conflict with each other about whom had rights to the water, and the king had felt that it would be a good learning point for the crown prince. Which naturally meant that Merlin had been dragged along as well. Thankfully, because of the extra guards needed to keep the peace in Camelot, it was just the two of them, allowing Arthur to let his defence down more than he otherwise would have done.

Their lips were cracked, their throats parched. To Arthur's amusement, Merlin had tied one of his famous neckerchiefs around his head to try and keep the sun off. However, when it proved to be working, Arthur had quietly asked for his spare, and done the same, making them almost unrecognisable from a distance. That is, if anyone was around to see them. When the magnificent castle finally rose into sight, both boys let out a sigh of relief; they were home at last. Handing Arthur the water skin, Merlin told him to finish it.

"Are you sure? I'm sure that I've had more than you anyway. You look dead on your feet," Arthur asked his servant in concern. The boy looked unnaturally pale and clammy, but the look that he received in response told him that he didn't look much better.

"Gaius may not chop my head off if I drank it, but the king on the other hand…you need to look and sound better than you do at the moment if you're going to make that report to him."

"What report?"  
Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes. The day had been extremely long as they had started travelling before dawn in order to make the most of the coolness before the sun rose, but the warlock was starting to feel the effects of fatigue and heat.

"Only the report that you have been going on about for the last three days."

"Oh," Arthur fell silent again, staring thoughtfully at the castle. He had thought of an idea that would prevent any further disputes, but as always, was nervous about telling his father. It seemed that so many of his thoughts and ideas were ignored that there was no point in even opening his mouth. Subconsciously, he went to run a hand through his hair, the way that he always did when he was preoccupied. However, having a scarf wrapped round his head simply meant that he managed to get his hand caught. The heat had done nothing to help Arthur's naturally short temper, and with the simple problem of having to unwind the scarf from his hand, felt the sparks beginning to creep up. Taking a deep breath, Arthur tipped the water skin back and felt an amazing sense of relief as the cool liquid slid down his burning throat. He knew that Merlin was faring no better, and now that their water had gone, there was no point in losing his temper. It would only make them hotter.

The two trudged the last part of their journey in silence. Arthur was contemplating the best way that he could put across his idea to his father, wondering if it would be received well or simply ignored. Merlin was thinking longingly of his bed, hoping that his room would be nice and cool. It didn't help that he had the beginnings of a headache coming on, but knew that he would still have to settle the horses and attend to Arthur before he was dismissed. Noticing the thoughtful mood that the prince was in, the warlock stifled a groan, knowing that Arthur wouldn't notice anything that was going on around him.

At long last, the magnificent castle was looming impressively over them; the shade given off from the huge structure was the best welcome that the two of them could think of. Handing Merlin Thunder's reigns, Arthur distractedly walked off, knowing full well that his servant would know exactly what to do. He was efficient like that.

Wearily, Merlin led Thunder and Drift into the stables. The heat meant that anyone who worked outside had been given leave after there had been a couple of deaths from heatstroke. How Gaius had persuaded the king, Merlin would never know, but it meant that there was no cheerful stable boy on hand to help rub down the two horses. Turning his attention to Thunder, Merlin set to work, aware that it was essential that they were looked after properly. He thought that by sorting Thunder first, he would still have the enthusiasm to work on Drift. If he did Drift first, however, he wasn't sure that he would be able to be bothered to bed down Thunder; the horse was too high-spirited.

It took far longer than normal to make them comfortable, as he had to make sure that they were not too wearied by the long and hot journey. By the time that he was finished, Merlin felt like his head was going to explode. He was having trouble focusing on a single thing and there was a steady drum beat sounding repetitively through his skull. But there was no time to have a break, for Arthur would be waiting for him. Especially if he wanted to talk to the king as soon as possible, then he would need his manservant to make him look presentable.

Making his way slowly to Arthur's chambers, Merlin found himself trying to take some deep, steadying breaths. He felt truly terrible. Pushing the door open to Arthur's room, he half expected the normal comment about knocking to come, but found that Arthur was spread across his bed, snoozing lightly. Headache aside, Merlin knew that he also felt exhausted and so was not surprised to find that Arthur had succumbed to the welcoming coolness of sleep. Neither of them had slept well on their trip; the ground had been extremely hard. Smiling gently at the collapsed form of his friend, Merlin crossed the room and gently shook him by the shoulder.

It didn't matter how gentle Merlin was, Arthur shot up as if he had been bitten. Staring wildly around, it took him a few moments to focus his gaze on the servant perched on the edge of his bed. It was clear that he had not meant to fall asleep and was ashamed of giving in. Turning to his normal business like manner, Arthur stood up, wincing as he stretched.

"I need you to find something respectable for me to wear," he began, gesturing to the dusty and stained clothes that he was currently in. With all of the rivers dried up, it had been impossible for them, or in other words, _Merlin_, to wash any of their clothes during their journey, meaning that they were both filthy.

"Then I need you to get this stuff washed. Ask in the laundry, they know the best ways of doing it without using up too much water," studying the boy in front of him, Arthur relented. Merlin looked extremely pale and worn out. The prince didn't have the heart to make him do anything apart from rest. "Never mind. Just help me dress and then go back to Gaius and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning…bright and early."

"Yes, sire," Merlin responded, his voice dull and lacking in any emotion at all, making Arthur look at him in concern. He knew that Merlin was tired, he felt that way himself, but there seemed to be something else.

"Are you aright?" he asked gently, watching his friend closely.

"Fine," Merlin responded.

Pulling himself off the bed, he began to rummage through Arthur's extremely vast wardrobe, looking for something that would make the prince look presentable. Before long, there was an ever-growing pile of clothes on the bed, each having been discarded for different reasons. Eventually, they both managed to agree on something that would be considered acceptable and began the long task of getting Arthur changed.

It was ridiculous how long it took.

Eventually, the prince was fit to be in the presence of a king. Taking a deep breath to calm his sudden nerves, Arthur stole another glance at Merlin. He looked even worse than before and almost looked as if he was swaying on the spot, having trouble to keep upright.

"Merlin? Go home. Sleep," after issuing his final orders for the day, Arthur strode out of his room with such a confidence that Merlin knew why so many people respected him. How little did he realise that it was all just an act and that the prince was actually terrified of being ignored by his father again. Merlin made to walk out of the room himself, planning on heeding Arthur's orders for once, but the journey to the door alone seemed a very long way, let alone all the way back to Gaius's chambers.

Maybe a small rest was in order before he made the trip…

*

Hours later, an exhausted Arthur struggled his way down the corridor. He was extremely relieved, for the king had seemed to accept the proposal. Whilst no praise came, acceptance was the best thing that Arthur could hope for. But it did mean that discussions had lasted for a long time, meaning that the already exhausted prince had been struggling to keep his eyes open by the time that his father had called it a night.

Almost falling through his door, Arthur frowned.

"Merlin? I thought I told you to go back to Gaius?" crossing his room, Arthur looked down to where his servant was leaning against the bed, fast asleep. Grinning, Arthur crouched down until they were eye level to each other and shook the boy by the shoulder. Slowly, Merlin cracked first one eye open, then the other. As soon as they focused, he groaned and turned even paler than before. Arthur immediately felt the concern shoot through him. Merlin was way beyond exhaustion. He was ill.

"I'm going to be sick," Merlin groaned, lurching to his feet unsteadily. He clutched his stomach and took a few deep breaths. Luckily, the feeling resided slightly as the warlock squeezed his eyes shut again, the light being too bright for his pounding head.

Arthur rose, himself, his own exhaustion forgotten. Grabbing one of Merlin's arms, he slung it over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm protectively around his waist and preceded to half carry, half drag his manservant out of his room and down the hall.


	4. Summer II

**And for the next part... Lets find out what is going on with Merlin, shall we?**

Gaius paced his room anxiously. He had heard that the prince had returned hours ago, yet the fact that Merlin was still not back had started to worry him. He knew that both boys would have been exhausted and therefore would not have wanted each others company for any longer than necessary. They argued on the best of days, let alone when they were hot and tired. As his feet turned automatically to take him back down the length of the room once again, the door slowly opened, sending the physician spinning around.

Using his foot to nudge the door open, Arthur shifted his arm, supporting Merlin's weight better. The boy seemed barely conscious, and any sound that he made was to groan in pain, making Arthur stop to make sure that he wasn't about to be sick. As the door began to creep open, Arthur turned sideways, using his back to push it open quicker. Pulling Merlin through the door, the prince was met by an extremely anxious Gaius.

"Arthur? Sire? What on earth happened? What's the matter with Merlin?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Arthur responded, navigating the room with some difficulty. Eventually, he reached Gaius's bed, and, unhooking his arm, deposited his servant. Immediately, Merlin lay down, burying his head in the pillow, his body relaxing as he did so. Arthur watched him for a few moments, before turning to Gaius to find that he was also watching the black haired boy worriedly.

"Has he been drinking enough over the last few days," he asked in concern, his brow furrowed.

Arthur felt a sense of dread course through him as he digested the physician's words. He knew that neither of them had technically drunk enough, but the fact that Merlin had forced him to drink the last of their water meant that he couldn't have drunk at all that day. Gazing at his friend in horror, Arthur could only watch helplessly as Gaius tried to examine him. He had seemed to have taken Arthur's silence as the correct answer, and thought he knew, without examining his ward, what was wrong. Merlin's reaction to the light when Gaius tried to peer into his eyes confirmed the suspicion.

"Heat stroke," he said softly, his eyes portraying the worry that was spreading through him. His last few patients had died from this, and even though Merlin was generally fit and healthy, the exertions from their trip would not have helped matters. Glancing up, he saw that Arthur had gone extremely pale at the news, and moving quickly, he forced the young prince to sit down.

Once the colour had returned to the prince, Gaius began to plan. He needed to get liquid into Merlin as quickly as possible, and also felt that Arthur could do with a drink before he fell ill as well.

"Sire? Could you go to the water pump and tell the guards there that I sent you. That way, they will allow you to take whatever you want, king's orders that I have access to any water that there may be."

Arthur nodded distractedly and stood back up again. Glancing once more at Merlin, he left the room. Gaius knew that he would have no problem getting the water, the orders from the king meant that Gaius was allowed to take what he wanted as it normally meant saving someone's life. The fact that Arthur was crown prince meant that they definitely wouldn't challenge him.

As soon as Arthur left the room, Gaius turned back to Merlin. Dampening a cloth in the small amount of water that he still had left, he laid it carefully across Merlin's forehead. Immediately, the warlock felt the soothing coolness of the cloth and relaxed. It was a balm to his sore head that much was for sure.

"Merlin? Come on, Merlin. I need you to wake up for me. Arthur has gone to get you a drink."

"Don't want one," Merlin murmured sleepily. He didn't understand why they wouldn't just let him sleep, first Arthur, now Gaius. Opening his eyes was far too much effort, and besides, the light made him feel sick.

At Gaius's insistence, he managed to crack one eye open, only to see the physician standing directly over the bed that he was lying on. Bed? He didn't remember going to bed. The last thing he remembered doing was dressing Arthur for his meeting with the king.

Before he had time to inquire how he'd ended up on a bed, he heard the door open. As soon as Gaius turned away, he shut his eye again, the darkness far more reassuring than the light. Gaius once again strode across the room and took the bucket from the guard. It seemed that Arthur hadn't the strength to carry the water all the way back up himself, a guard had done it for him. Gaius frowned at the young man. Not only had he got an ill Merlin to worry about, but also the prince was absolutely exhausted and looked dead on his feet. Yet his obstinate nature meant that Gaius knew it was pointless to try and force him to leave. Once more pushing the prince onto a stool, Gaius picked up two goblets from a nearby shelf. Dipping first one, then the other, into the bucket, he handed one to Arthur.

"Drink this. If you don't, then the chances are that you will come down with something as well. You look far too dehydrated. Then I want you to go and have a rest."

"No," Arthur responded, not unexpectedly. "Merlin made me drink the last of the water, so it is my fault that he is ill. I'm staying here until he is better."

"And if he had drunk it, then it would have been you that was ill. This is no ones fault, Arthur, apart from the heat's."

"I'm still not going anywhere," Arthur told him. Tipping the goblet back in one hand, he downed nearly the entire contents in one gulp. The feeling of the water gushing down his throat had to be one of the best feelings that he could think of at this moment in time. It was everything that his throat was not: cool, soothing, moist. Satisfied that at least one of them wouldn't suffer from dehydration tonight, Gaius turned back to the task in hand. Crouching beside the bed, the physician shook his head when he saw that Merlin had closed his eyes again, obviously having trouble to stay awake. His exhaustion was not going to help matters. Sliding one hand under Merlin's head, Gaius ignored the feeble protests that came with the action and made the young man sit up. The way that his hand was supporting all of the weight of Merlin's head made him realise that he was in a lot of pain.

"Open up, Merlin. You have to drink this. It will make you feel better, I promise."

"Don't want it," Merlin insisted, allowing Gaius to take the weight. His head felt like it was about to fall off if it wasn't for the physician's hand. "Feel sick."

"I know. But it will help," Gaius responded soothingly, worry coursing through him. It was essential that he got some fluid into the stubborn boy as quickly as possible, but he needed Merlin to help; he couldn't do it all on his own. But he had forgotten who else was in the room, someone who was used to Merlin being stubborn.

"_Mer_lin, you idiot, it'll help you. Just open your mouth. Shouldn't be a problem, you can't normally keep it shut."

"Go away, Arthur," Merlin grumbled.

Rather than be angry with the prince, Gaius was delighted. He was managing to get Merlin to respond normally, giving him a better idea of how far the heat stroke had gone. Sighing in frustration when Merlin still refused to respond to Gaius's instructions, Arthur got up and crossed the room. Crouching down beside the physician, Arthur glared at Merlin. Even with his eyes shut, Merlin seemed to know exactly what Arthur was doing and tried to turn his head away.

"Open up, Merlin," the prince began, his voice taking on a threatening tone. "If you don't do as Gaius says, then I'll make you."

Sensing the look of alarm that Gaius was shooting him, Arthur winked at the old physician and mouthed 'watch' reassuringly. Sure enough, Merlin slowly opened one eye, then the other, wincing as the light caused the pounding to intensify. Obligingly, he allowed Gaius to slowly trickle the contents of the goblet down his throat, sighing in relief, as the nauseous feeling didn't get worse.

"See," Arthur continued sweetly. "Better?"

Merlin didn't bother to respond, but instead closed his eyes again. Pleased, Gaius carefully lowered him back on the bed, and after re-wetting the cloth, laid it soothingly back across his head. Motioning to Arthur, the two of them went to the other side of the room, where they could talk without disturbing the sick servant.

"Will he be alright?" Arthur asked anxiously. He had known Gaius for long enough to know that he looked relieved now that Merlin had drunk, but had not missed the concern in the physician's expression either.

"I think so," Gaius responded, the relief all too evident in his voice. "He was lucky, it hadn't progressed too far. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to wake him every couple of hours to get some more fluid into him, but as long as he keeps it down, he should be alright within a couple of days."

Both prince and physician let out a sigh of relief, glancing back towards the bed where Merlin had fallen into a light sleep. With the relief, Arthur also felt his own exhaustion come crashing back. It seemed to have disappeared with his worry for Merlin, but now that he knew that his friend should be all right, it all came back at once, making him sway slightly. Of course, Gaius immediately picked up on it.

"You really should get some rest, sire -" the physician began, but was cut off almost immediately by the prince.

"You may need my help getting him to drink again. Sorry, Gaius, but I'm not leaving him."

Shaking his head with bemusement, Gaius could see where Merlin had picked up the stubbornness. He was sure that he hadn't been this bad when he'd first arrived in Camelot. After spending so long with Arthur though, it seemed their personalities were beginning to rub off on each other. However, it was with a smile that he watched Arthur manoeuvre a stool so that he was sitting directly beside Merlin. Some of Merlin's kind-heartedness had definitely been transferred to Arthur. The previously arrogant prince would never have normally sat at the bedside of a sick servant; he was more likely to have sacked them.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Gaius willed the next few hours away. By the time he had restocked some of his dwindling supplies and checked on those whom he knew to be greatly suffering from the heat, it was time to give Merlin another drink.

Crossing over to the bed, Gaius smiled at the sight. Merlin was fast asleep, his features having finally relaxed now that the sleep had taken the pain away. Arthur was perched on his stool, but his upper body was on the bed. His head nestling in his arms, the crown prince of Camelot was also fast asleep. Gaius only wished that there was some sort of device that would allow him to capture the image for ever.

Feeling truly terrible about having to wake Merlin, Gaius stood on the opposite side of the bed and gently shook him, determined to try not to wake Arthur as well; they both needed their sleep. Sleepily Merlin opened his eyes, wincing as he did so. Ever so gently, Gaius moved him so that he was sitting up more and preceded to empty the goblet down his throat again, before lowering him back onto the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Merlin was once again lost in the land of dreams. In fact, Gaius wasn't sure if he had even woken up, or whether his body was just reacting. With some difficultly, Gaius shifted Arthur over a little, making it less likely that he was going to fall off the stool.

The night was a long one. Gaius had copied Arthur and was sleeping in a chair by Merlin's bed, making it easier for him to give him a drink every few hours. Although Merlin never properly woke up, Gaius was pleased to see that his eyes were looking a lot clearer as the night progressed and that he wasn't reacting to the candle as badly as he had been. It did mean that even despite his precarious position, Arthur got the best night sleep out of all of them. Although that wasn't to last long once morning arrived.

His natural body clock beginning to wake him, Arthur shifted in his sleep. Unfortunately for him, he managed to shift straight off the stool, landing with an almighty thud on Gaius's hard floor. The sound instantly woke both Gaius and Merlin. The former springing up immediately to help the ashamed prince up, the latter taking one look at him and starting to laugh. Although it started out as a weak chuckle, Merlin soon couldn't control himself and had tears of amusement running down his cheeks. Arthur couldn't see quite what was so funny, but was so relieved at hearing Merlin laugh that he soon joined in.

Gaius simply stood there, his eyebrows raised as he watched the two laughing boys. Eventually, Merlin managed to control himself slightly and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands whilst taking a deep breath.

"How are you feeling?" the physician asked his patient, although part of him was not sure why. It was apparent that Merlin was feeling much better, the colour was back in his cheeks and the twinkle was reappearing in his eye.

"Like I've been kicked by a horse," Merlin responded. "Nothing compared to yesterday, though."

"Have you ever actually been kicked by a horse?" Arthur asked, sounding curious.

Before Merlin had a chance to respond, the door burst open and Uther strode in, looking worried and angry at the same time. On seeing his son standing by the bed of his manservant, his look changed to pure rage.

"What do you think you're doing, Arthur? I had some boy come and tell me that you were not in your bed at first light. And instead I find you here, talking to your servant!"

Arthur gaped at his father, feeling anger build up inside him. Did Uther care nothing for the well being of anyone but himself? But on second thoughts, Arthur could answer that. No, he didn't.

Knowing that he was going to get in trouble no matter what he said, Arthur opened his mouth to send an angry retort back, but Gaius cut in first.

"Forgive me, sire. Arthur came to me early this morning, complaining of a headache, and so I was anxious that he stayed to make sure that he had enough to drink. Heat stroke is a nasty business. I wanted to make sure that his headache had lessened before he left here."

"And has it?" Uther demanded of his son, who mutely nodded. He wasn't sure what Gaius was up to, but it was obvious that the route he was taking was one that would get Arthur out of trouble, for which the prince was extremely grateful.

"Then go back to your chambers immediately and stay there, Arthur," turning on his heel, the king strode magnificently out again, the happy atmosphere that had been in the room before his arrival disappearing along with him.

"I'd better go," Arthur muttered, looking downcast. Merlin felt for him. He had only been trying to be a good friend, yet he had got into trouble for it.

"I'll be along in a moment," he told his master, but was instantly shouted down by both Gaius and Arthur. After being told in two different ways that he was by no means allowed out of bed until the next morning, Merlin could only watch as Arthur strode glumly out of the room, having to face an entire day of nothing to do and no one to distract him from the boredom either.

Sighing, Merlin lay back, staring at the ceiling as Gaius bustled about, fetching various vials of potions and herbs from around the room. In all honesty, he was quite glad that he had been made to stay where he was; his head was aching with more intensity again. He was sure that this was from lack of sleep, however, and before Gaius had left to go on his rounds, felt himself drifting back off to sleep.

Merlin wasn't aware of Gaius coming back, nor Arthur checking in on him later that evening. In fact, he was aware of nothing until the next morning, when he found himself receiving a cold shower. Spluttering, Merlin opened his eyes to find a grinning Arthur standing above his bed, an upturned goblet in his hand.

"I said that we needed to wake him to make sure he drinks, not pour the whole thing over him," Gaius was in the middle of scolding the young prince, but Merlin wasn't listening. For the first time in days, he felt refreshed. His head had stopped pounding and he didn't feel like he was just about to drop back off to sleep. There also seemed to be something else. The air wasn't as close; the temperature seemed to have dropped by a few degrees. And the fact that Arthur had just wasted an entire goblet of water gave Merlin an idea…

"Guess what?" a cheerful Arthur plonked himself down on the end of Merlin's bed as the servant wiped the sopping hair out of his eyes. He had been happy anyway, but seeing how clear and pain free Merlin's eyes were gave the prince an added sense of cheer.

"You managed to dress yourself?" Merlin asked innocently. Gaius hurried over, a fresh beaker of water in his hand. Merlin didn't need telling twice. An entire day of sleeping meant that he was once again parched, and with one fluent movement, drained the entire goblet. As Gaius took the glasses from both of them and proceeded to refill them, Arthur continued.

"No – well, yes, I did, but that wasn't what I meant. Whilst you have spent the last day in the land of dreams, the rest of us have been stuck inside because it spent the entire time raining! The rivers and wells are almost full again, although the rate that people are drinking means it won't stay like that for long. Gaius says that the drought has finally broken, meaning that we should be receiving a more reliable rain fall over the next few weeks."

"That's great!" Merlin responded genuinely. The lack of water had really been causing a problem for everyone, not just from the deaths, but just how difficult it made life in general.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Merlin accepted Arthur's helping hand with good grace and pulled himself upright. Having spent so long lying down, he found that his first few steps were a little wobbly, but he eventually made it over to the window and stood looking out. The skies were once again clear. If it wasn't for what Arthur had just told him and the fact that he could see the sun reflecting in small droplets of water littered about the place, Merlin wouldn't have noticed that it rained. But on a second look, he could see that already, there was a freshness to everything beginning to emerge. Children could be heard laughing as they played in the nearby puddles, the chatter of their parents as they tried to resume their normal life patterns once again. Smiling, Merlin drank in the sights before him, only interrupted by Gaius handing something to Arthur.

"What's that?" Merlin asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Been having some chest pains over the last few days," Arthur responded, shrugging as if it was no big deal. Merlin took one look at Gaius's face and frowned, turning back to the prince with an expression that clearly said he didn't believe him in the slightest.

"Are you not going to tell him why?" Gaius asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. When Arthur didn't respond, the old physician continued, too used to the death glare from the prince to feel threatened by it in the slightest.

"Arthur has been experiencing chest pains because of your laughing fit yesterday morning. Our prince then managed to give himself hiccups that he couldn't get rid off for nearly three hours."

Merlin took one look at Arthur, who had turned a deep red and burst out laughing again. Unable to control himself, the warlock felt an immense sense of satisfaction.

Everything was back how it should be.


	5. Autumn I

"Tell me again why I'm here?" Arthur sighed as he looked down from his perch on a fallen tree to his manservant, who was crawling around on the floor.

"Well, Gaius says the conditions have been perfect for a certain type of really rare herb, so we need to find it."

"No, _Mer_lin, that's why _you_ are here. Why did _I_ get dragged along?" Arthur smirked as Merlin looked up from the ground, blushing slightly. He knew exactly why he had been dragged along, but just wanted to hear Merlin say it.

"Youarethebestpersonwhoknowstheforest," Merlin gabbled, as if saying it quicker would stop it sounding like a compliment. The prince, however, was having none of it.

"Sorry? What was that?" jumping down from the tree, Arthur stood directly over the boy, causing Merlin to gulp slightly. Knowing that he would have to say it now, he cleared his throat nervously. It wasn't just annoying having to compliment Arthur, his head was big enough already, but was almost a physical challenge to get the words out.

"You are the best person who knows the forest."

"Of course I am," Arthur responded cheerfully, having finally got the result that he wanted. Striding forward, he entered the realm of the trees and stopped. He was looking at the floor in something that could resemble horror, but Merlin, as usual, was completely oblivious to this.

"How hard can it be to find one little plant?" he wondered out loud, joining Arthur in the opening to the forest. There, he too stopped in horror.

"How hard indeed?" Arthur muttered. It was going to be no easy task finding that one little plant, for it was hard to even see the forest floor. The autumn weather had sent leaves of majestic colours, gold and red mainly, spiralling gracefully onto the floor below. Whilst it may have looked very pretty, it caused the two searchers a considerable amount of difficulty.

"Don't suppose Gaius gave you any clues of where to look, did he?" Arthur continued. Maybe this wasn't going to be quite the quick trip that he had originally anticipated.

"Well, he said something about it being found in the roots of a really old tree. Apparently, the tree has really random shaped leaves, but I don't see how that will help us if all the leaves are on the floor."

"I think I know where he means," striding forward, Arthur took the lead into the forest, hearing Merlin clumsily following. This was going to be too much fun.

Quickening his pace, Arthur lengthened his strides until he could hear Merlin falling behind. Hiding behind the thick trunk of an old oak, he gathered up a handful of leaves. As he waited for his poor, unsuspecting manservant to come into range, the prince couldn't help but note with some satisfaction that they were the Pendragon colours. Coincidence, of course, but it did make the young prince feel immensely proud.

Finally, after what Arthur thought felt like hours, Merlin came round the tree. With one swift lung, the prince threw the handful of leaves at him, only staying around for long enough to see them lodge themselves in his jet-black hair, before running off, laughing. Startled, Merlin looked around, but could see nothing. Raising a hand, he ran it through his hair and stared in surprise when a handful of leaves came out. What he didn't realise was that Arthur was once again behind him, and before he had a chance to drop the leaves he had just retrieved, found himself being sprinkled with them.

Unfortunately for Arthur, you couldn't catch Merlin unaware twice. Spinning around with a speed that momentarily stunned Arthur, he chucked the leaves that Arthur had put in his hair straight back in the prince's face. He, however, didn't wait around long enough to see if they made contact, but instead hurtled off into the forest, Arthur hot on his heels, declaring something about a war.

It took Arthur all of about two seconds to catch up with his servant, who was trying to hide unsuccessfully behind a tree. Merlin was clearly looking around the tree in the direction that he thought Arthur would appear from, but he had forgotten that the prince was not only the best fighter in all of Camelot, but also the best hunter. He knew exactly what his clumsy manservant was planning, and so changed course slightly.

Once again creeping up behind Merlin, Arthur sprung at him unawares, tackling him to the ground and throwing leaves in his face. Trying to look offended, but ruining the pretence by laughing, Merlin grabbed handfuls of leaves from beside him on the ground and threw them straight back, most of them floating gently over Arthur's shoulder before coming back down and hitting the warlock. It seemed that everyone was against Merlin, even himself.

Eventually, the laughter got the better of them and both boys struggled to their feet, trying to retrieve leaves from odd places. Merlin had them all down his back from where he had fallen straight into a pile, so Arthur tried to assist him. Swiping his servant on the back with far more force than necessary, Arthur did succeed in getting the majority of them off, but also sent Merlin head first into another leaf pile.

Emerging, spluttering, Merlin shot Arthur a mock glare, but the prince was too busy laughing to notice. Merlin once again had leaves sticking out of his hair, almost making it look like he was the one wearing the crown for a change.

Gallantly pulling him to his feet, Arthur turned once more to the task in hand. By some unknown power, their race through the forest had taken them in the right direction. Probably making the journey a lot quicker than it would have been, Arthur thought to himself as Merlin brushed himself down.

"I think the tree Gaius was talking about is just up there, on the left. It used to be nicknamed the Witch's tree by Morgana when we were young because all the crows used to sit in it. The leaves are all practically perfect circles."

"Wow," Merlin stated interestedly. He had read about trees like that in his magical book. They were supposed to contain some type of ancient magical power, coming from before even the Old Religion. How ironic that Morgana should name it the Witch's tree, when she was almost right.

Taking the lead on an almost hidden path, Arthur scuffed through the leaves, enjoying the feeling of them burying his feet with each step. Although he would make fun of Merlin if he had said anything, there was something beautiful about the forest in autumn: the colours were truly magnificent. Drifting off into a daydream, Arthur was bought back to earth a bit too suddenly for his liking when a muffled thud sounded behind him.

Turning around, he found his clumsy fool of a manservant once more sprawled across the floor. An innocent looking tree root was sticking up from where Merlin's foot had unburied it from the mound of leaves that had previously been hiding it. Laughing, Arthur strode back to him and once again offered the servant his hand. Taking it, Merlin pulled himself to his feet. With a deviant smirk, however, Arthur didn't let go. Instead, he twisted the arm up behind Merlin's back, ignoring the surprised squawk that accompanied it.

"Well, well, well, this does look familiar," Arthur began slowly, grinning broadly. He could tell by the stillness that took over Merlin before he started struggling that he knew exactly what the prince was talking about.

"You're still an ass," he told the prince, desperately trying to shake his arm free. But no matter what he did, Arthur simply tightened his grip, refusing to let go.

"And you're still stupid. Tell me, _Mer_lin, have you learnt to walk on your knees yet?"

"Nope. Not planning on either. Why, who do you think you are to make me? The king?"

"I could have you thrown in jail for that," Arthur responded, his grin growing wider and wider.

"No you couldn't," Merlin said, confusing the prince. He was no longer sure where his manservant was taking the conversation.

"Why?"

With one last sudden jerk, it was harder to say who was more surprised when Merlin finally managed to shake Arthur's grip on his arm. Spinning around to face the prince, Merlin subjected him to one of his famous goofy grins.

"'Cause then you won't be able to get dressed!" with a sudden spring, Merlin shot past Arthur, running up the path, his laugh bouncing infectiously around, muffled slightly by the blanket of leaves that carpeted the floor. Caught unawares, Arthur stood blinking at the spot that had been his manservant a few seconds ago. Turning on his heel, he sprinted back up the path, determined to make Merlin pay this time.

His servant hadn't gone very far when Arthur caught up with him. He had reached the tree that Arthur had been describing to him. The leaves were indeed perfect circles, but they had also fallen in a perfect circle around the tree. It was spooky. The grass was showing directly around the trunk, then the leaves spiralled out. It appeared that his book wasn't lying about magical properties of the tree; there was no way that this could happen naturally.

"Whoa," Arthur skidded to a stop next to Merlin, all intentions of revenge forgotten when he saw the eeriness of the tree. "It gets worse each year."

"You mean it always does…_this_?" Merlin flapped his arm at the circle of the leaves at a complete loss of what to call it. No words sprung into his mind that didn't give away that he knew magical terms, but he wasn't sure if they even covered the awe that was so being given off from the tree itself.

"Yep," Arthur responded quietly. The tree always made him feel uneasy and often sent shivers down his back. Anything magical he normally destroyed, yet there was definitely something different about this tree. Something that he couldn't quite place. With an unwelcoming start, he realised that was the way that he had first described the man standing next to him, the man that he had over time come to call his best friend.

"Come on," he continued, anxious to find this herb so that they could get away from this strange place. "Let's find that herb. You start over that side, and I'll start over here. Hopefully it won't take too long to find."

Nodding his approval of the plan, Merlin crossed around to the other side of the tree. He could already hear Arthur beginning his search, but the warlock wanted a few moments just to drink in the magic that the tree was transmitting. He wasn't sure if Arthur could feel anything, but every nerve of his being felt alive and vibrant. The magic within him felt even more powerful than normal, sending a tingling sensation dancing across his skin. It was a strange sensation, but was not altogether unpleasant.

Crouching down, Merlin began to search. He was reluctant to disturb the leaves, they looked so perfect the way that they were, but he knew how important and rare this herb was to Gaius and wanted to make his uncle happy. Being as gentle as possible, Merlin slowly began rummaging his way through the leaves, the tingling feeling intensifying with each leaf that he touched. Judging by the sounds that were emerging from around the tree trunk, along with the muffled curses, Arthur was not being as gentle. Nor was he having any more luck.

Using magic whenever he dared, it didn't take Merlin long to search around his half of the tree. Thinking through what Gaius had told him, the warlock wondered if there was something that they were missing. If there was, then Merlin couldn't figure it out.

Arthur was still clearly in the middle of searching around the other side, his loud movements making Merlin wonder how on earth he managed to be so quiet when they were hunting, yet so loud the rest of the time. Glancing around at the leaves he had so recently disturbed, Merlin let his eyes roam, trusting his instincts to pick up anything he might have previously missed.

They did. Although the leaves gave no clues as to where the mysterious little herb was, Merlin had begun to look towards the tree itself. The roots were curving graciously above the ground, obvious in the clearing of the leaves. A bright splash of colour seemed to be nestled between two of them, and thinking perhaps he might have found the plant, Merlin took a step forward into the clear circle.

And promptly vanished into thin air.

**Sorry, i couldn't resist leaving it on a cliffhanger this time. Please don't kill me. Tell you what you could do instead, REVIEW! Please.**


	6. Autumn II

Arthur had had no luck in finding the accursed herb on his side of the tree and it was starting to annoy the prince. He had always been the best at hunting, being able to spot his prey even when it was carefully hidden amongst dense undergrowth, but this time, he had seen no hint of anything, apart from an unnerving feeling that he was being watched as he worked his way through the mysterious leaves. He hated this tree. Always had done, always would do. There was something unearthly magical about it, a raw power that couldn't be placed, yet seemed to be echoing through the air around him. Arthur only linked magic with one thing: evil. Therefore, the prince was very reluctant to spend any longer here than strictly necessary.

"Merlin?" Arthur called his servant's name, and rounded the tree, expecting to find Merlin crouched among the mystifying leaves, searching. The prince wanted to know if he had managed to have any luck either. Arthur was partly in two minds whether or not he wanted Merlin to be successful. It would mean that they would be able to get out of here, but would also mean that Merlin would have succeeded in where Arthur had failed: something Arthur was not sure whether he would be able to accept.

When he saw no sign of the black haired boy, Arthur kept walking, just in case the tree was bigger than he had remembered it to be. With this tree, it wouldn't have surprised Arthur if it had grown in just the time that they had been looking, determined to make their task harder.

Eventually, there came a point when Arthur knew that he had covered the whole of the tree. The leaves may have all looked the same, they may have all fallen in a perfect circle around the smooth trunk, but Arthur was able to use other parts of the forest to confirm his suspicions. He had walked all the way around the tree and there was no sign of Merlin…

"Come out, Merlin!" he called into the trees around them, half expecting his servant to come sheepishly out, his hands full of leaves again. When there came no response to his shout apart from his own voice bouncing back at him, Arthur frowned. Part of him had expected Merlin to be trying to play some sort of trick, yet another part of him knew that he wouldn't have pushed his luck that far, not with everything else that had already happened on this trip.

"Merlin!" Arthur called once again, a hint of worry starting to enter his voice. "Where are you?"

When still no sound responded in answer to the prince's question, Arthur's frown deepened. There was no denying it – he was worried now. The amount of things that had happened to them in this forest (and those were just the ones that Arthur knew about) gave him cause for concern. How could Merlin have disappeared so suddenly and silently, without even calling for help?

Dropping to his knees, Arthur began to search for clues. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to find. A footprint? A clue of some sort about where his clumsy manservant could have disappeared to? Something kept niggling at the back of his mind about the magic that the tree seemed to possess, but he refused to allow the idea to blossom. If magic was involved, then Arthur felt that his manservant was as good as lost. If it was some frightening beast, or even a band of thieves, then Arthur could deal with it. Something purely magical? He didn't have a clue where to even start.

After what felt like hours of searching around the tree, Arthur was no closer to finding Merlin than when he first started looking. The prince was beginning to feel incredibly uncomfortable by this point. At the end of the day, he normally could find whatever he wanted. Without being bigheaded, he was good at tracking; even Merlin would admit that much. But yet, he could find no clue whatsoever about where the clumsy boy could have disappeared to.

Rocking back on his heels, Arthur let his gaze sweep the entire area. It was only then that he noticed the dash of colour nestled in the roots of the tree. He had been so focused on searching through the leaves that he hadn't once looked towards the mysterious tree itself. What was it Merlin had said about the herb? Somethingabout it being '_found in the roots of a really old tree_'. Feeling that he may as well have something good to hand to Gaius when he delivered the news that his ward was lost somewhere in a forest, Arthur made to stride forward into the clearing.

Before he could take another step, a yell halted him. Looking up, Arthur saw a sight that he didn't believe that he would ever forget in a very long time.

"Argh!"

As Arthur watched in astonishment, Merlin reappeared. From the tree. Flying over the prince's head with impressive speed, the warlock looked like he had been thrown. His ungraceful flight came to a very abrupt end, however. As soon as he was back over the leaves and away from the mysterious clearing around the tree, he practically stopped in mid air, then fell to the ground with a thud, not five paces away from the flabbergasted prince.

For a stunned moment, no one moved. Arthur stood there with his jaw on the floor, staring at his servant, who sat where he had landed, looking almost as bewildered as the prince. Shaking his head as if to snap himself out of a daze, Arthur hurried over. Luckily, the sheer amount of leaves meant that Merlin's fall had been remarkably cushioned, and considering the height that he had fallen from, he remained unhurt, even if a little shaky.

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded, somewhat angrily. He didn't want to show to Merlin that he had been worried about what had just occurred, so hid it behind emotions that he wasn't really feeling.

"I…I don't know," Merlin began shakily.

At the sound of his voice, Arthur softened. It was clear that the servant had no more idea than he did, so being angry wouldn't get him very far. Taking the last few steps, he crouched down next to the boy, surprised to see that he was physically shaking as well.

"Where did you go?" the curiosity getting the better of him, the prince couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know," Merlin repeated, his voice sounding slightly stronger than before.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet and took a few deep breaths, calming himself as the autumn air refreshed him. For once, he was being honest with Arthur. He had no idea what had just happened. One minute he had been standing out here, the next he had ended up in some place that looked suspiciously like the inside of the tree. Looking over at Arthur, Merlin heart almost jumped through his throat when he realised that the prince was about to step into the clearing. Although he was not sure what had happened, he knew that it was most certainly something to do with the clearing around the base of the trunk and the magical aura that was radiating off.

"Don't!" he yelled at the startled prince. Arthur looked back at him, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. He looked genuinely surprised at Merlin's reaction, yet his normal mocking look was quickly taking over, daring Merlin to stop him.

"I'm just going to get the herb," he responded, talking slowly as if to an infant. "Look, you can see it just there. I'm not going to be far in case you get scared."  
"Oh, very funny," Merlin snapped back.

Holding his breath, the young warlock was half tempted to shut his eyes as Arthur lifted his foot up, before ever so slowly placing it down in the clearing of leaves. Practically squinting, Merlin let an explosive breath when Arthur took another step, then another. One thing was for sure; the prince was not going to disappear any time soon. Not because of the tree, at any rate.

Reaching the trees roots, Arthur was using all of his skills that he had required from having to address his father to hide how nervous he was getting this close to the tree. Bending down, he reached towards the splash of colour that had been luring him towards the tree, and stopped. Frowning once again, Arthur tilted his head first to one side, and then the other.

"What are you doing?" Merlin called from where he was standing. To Arthur's amusement, he had not taken another step closer to the tree, staying in the midst of the fallen leaves and their eerie pattern.

"The herb isn't here," Arthur replied, still trying to look at the spot from as many different angles as he could master. When he stepped back, the colour was definitely there, but when he got closer, there was nothing.

"That's because it's in my hand," Merlin said, sounding genuinely surprised.

"You could have told me," Arthur muttered, angry again. It had taken all of his courage to take each step towards this tree, only to find out that it was all for nothing.

"I didn't realise until now. I was a little pre-occupied," Merlin retorted. He had honestly not noticed the little plant that was being crushed in the palm of his hand. He didn't even know how long it had been there or how it came to be in his possession in the first place.

Crossing back through the clearing as quickly as possible without making it look like he was close to running, Arthur rejoined Merlin in the leaves, also staring at the little plant lying innocently in his hand. Shaking his head, Arthur started to walk away.

"Come on, let's go home. This place gives me the creeps."

"You? Really? I didn't think anything gave you the 'creeps'."

"Shut up, _Mer_lin."

Lost in the obscurity of what had just happened, the two boys made their way through the forest in almost silence. There was no laughter this time, no crazy leaf fights, just silence. Merlin was thankful for it, though. There were so many thoughts whizzing around his head. Why had he vanished and Arthur not? How did the herb get into his hand? And the one burning at the foremost of his mind: did Gaius know about this?

As they walked the whole way back instead of racing, the journey seemed to take forever with nothing to distract them from the strangeness of the afternoon. Before too long though, Arthur's excellent navigation (not that Merlin would admit that) brought them back to the outskirts of the castle. Snapping out of the daze that he had spent the whole journey in, Arthur sprang back to attention as the guards at the gates bowed low to him and were even gracious enough to nod at Merlin, who responded with likewise.

"Make sure you're early tomorrow, we are going hunting. Then the stables need mucking out again. I'm sure you don't do it properly, they seem to be a constant mess."

"Yes, sire," Merlin sighed. He should have known the open friendship that Arthur had displayed in the forest would not last once they reached civilisation again. It would just be nice occasionally not to have the conflict of which part was he playing, friend or servant? Saviour or idiot?

Watching Arthur's retreating back, Merlin turned and headed in the opposite direction, unable to believe how late it was. They had been in the forest for a lot longer than he had originally thought. He still wasn't sure how long he had been missing for. It was time to get some answers.

Pushing the door to the physician's quarters open, Merlin cleared his throat, alerting Gaius to the fact that he was back.

"Ah, Merlin," the physician began cheerfully. "Any luck?"

"Yes," Merlin responded slowly, watching to see if Gaius was giving anything away. "Although when you said in the roots, I didn't think that you meant in the actual tree."

At his words, Gaius's face split into a wide grin, throwing Merlin completely. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but happiness at the fact that he had obviously been in the tree was the last thing that had crossed his mind.

"You entered it, then?" Gaius exclaimed, sounding as excited as a small child. "I thought that you would be able to."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Merlin couldn't believe this. He had hoped that Gaius would have answers, but didn't think that the physician would know exactly what had happened and had even been expecting it to happen.

"When I told you that the conditions were right for this herb, I wasn't just talking about the weather. The herb is very precious and so is protected by the magic of the tree. No doubt you felt it, yes?"

At Merlin's nod, Gaius pushed a stool over to the confused young warlock. Taking the seat opposite him, he continued with his explanation.

"To gain access to the herb, the person seeking it must have magic. They are then transported into the actual tree, where the herb grows, given the right atmospheric conditions. The ailment of the stars also plays a role, meaning that it only happens every fifty years. I was lucky that you were here to fetch it for me."  
"You could have still told me that I was going to be sucked into a tree! You should have seen Arthur's face. Is that why I vanished and he didn't? Because he doesn't have magic?"

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, you are such a terrible liar that you would have made Arthur suspicious. No doubt you would have tried to get rid off him once he had shown you the tree, which would have immediately alerted him to the fact that you would be up to something that you shouldn't be. I thought it was best not to tell you anything apart from which tree it is. Your surprise would have been so genuine that Arthur would have no choice but to believe that you didn't know what had happened. And yes, that is why he was completely unaffected. I doubt whether he would have even sensed the magic of the tree."  
"I think that he did," Merlin responded thoughtfully, his mind going back to their previous conversation. "He said that the tree always gave him the creeps, his words not mine. When he entered the clearing by the bottom of the tree, he may have been trying to hide it, but he was nervous. I think that he knows more than you give him credit for."

"Be careful, then," Gaius warned, a small frown replacing his previous happy expression. "Your magic is almost as natural as the tree's, you have to make sure that he doesn't sense you, or there will be trouble. Now, off to bed. No doubt you have to be up early, it's supposed to be good hunting weather tomorrow."

"If it was you who told him that…" Merlin's voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. Handing Gaius the peculiar plant that was still residing in his hand, Merlin crossed the room to the stairs. Calling goodnight back to Gaius, he climbed up into his room and practically fell onto his bed. Kicking the blanket back with his feet, Merlin climbed in, not bothering to undress. Yawning, he let his mind wonder over the events of the last few hours.

It had been a very strange day.

**This chapter is dedicated to Pirate Moose because she had to put up with me ramble on about Merlin and magical trees for ages without me explaining what on earth i was talking about! I'm sorry, my friend! Forgive me?**

**Please review! A huge thank you for those of you who have taken the time to let me know your thoughts so far, i really appreciate it.**

**Oooh, winter coming next...**


	7. Winter I

Shivering, Merlin pulled his thin blanket up higher around his chin. He had so many of layers of clothing on, but yet he was still freezing. He was just debating with himself whether or not to cast a quick spell to warm himself up when Gaius walked through his bedroom door, well wrapped up himself.

"Still in bed, Merlin?" he asked, shaking his head at the sight of the top of a head, just visible.

"It's too cold to get up," Merlin moaned, burying himself deeper and practically disappearing from sight altogether.

"I doubt that excuse would work on Arthur," Gaius told him, perching on the edge of the bed. Ever since the weather had turned for the worst, it had been an almost daily challenge to get Merlin out of bed. Today, however, Gaius had a trick up one of his many sleeves that might just work.

"Merlin? Have you not noticed how bright your room is this morning?" a sleepy head emerged from the top of the blankets, warming Gaius's heart with the cuteness of it. Although he knew precisely what answer he would get if he told the black haired boy that: it wouldn't be pleasant.

Peering at the physician in confusion, Merlin let his eyes adjust to the light. Indeed, his room did look brighter than normal, a glow seemingly illuminating it from outside. There was only one thing that gave of a glow like that at this time of the year. But it wasn't magic this time.

"Snow!" he cried, jumping out of bed in a flash. Any previous reluctance had vanished as he excitedly pulled on the nearest clothes he could find. Gaius had to intervene twice to make him look halfway presentable before going to work. His excitement was infectious and the physician soon found himself looking for the gloves with far more haste than he normally was used to at this time in the morning.

Feeling like a five-year-old child again, Merlin tore out of his room, scrambling down the stairs as quickly as he could. In his haste, he slipped on the third step and tumbled the rest of the way, before springing up again. He had so many clothes on to fight against the coldness that he hadn't felt a thing. He sped out of the door, too excited to bother with breakfast. Before he had gone more than a few paces down the corridor, he heard Gaius call him back and groaned, but turned all the same.

Anticipating a lecture on the importance of meals, Merlin was pleasantly surprised when all the physician did was throw him a pair of gloves.

"Have fun," he called at the retreating back that was disappearing fast around the corner. He had known Arthur for long enough to know that the prince would be almost as excited as his servant, although he wouldn't fall down the stairs because of it.

The prince was indeed excited. Unlike some, he had noticed the moment that he had opened his eyes that the weather had changed over night. After scrambling out of bed as fast as he could, Arthur had dressed himself (for once) and was waiting for Merlin to turn up. The lack of snow the year before meant that he was desperate to get out and have fun. Allowing his servant a few extra minutes to appear, for Arthur knew the type of person Merlin was and how excited he would be, the prince instead looked out of his window. The land of Camelot looked magnificent, a thick white sheet covering everything. If the word didn't have too many bad explanations attached to it, Arthur would have called it magical. Instead, he settled with feeling proud. One day, this amazing kingdom would be his.

Pulled from his thoughts by the door flying open so hard that it crashed into the wall behind, Arthur spun to see Merlin climbing back to his feet again. He had been right in thinking that Merlin would be excited, the boy's grin was contagious and Arthur couldn't help but smile back when he realised how much younger Merlin looked with so many clothes on and a goofy grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Have you seen…?" Merlin asked breathlessly, gesturing towards the window with one arm, his voice echoing what he was feeling inside. Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement. Considering where he was standing, how could he have _not _seen?

"You know that we have to examine the guard this morning?" Arthur asked innocently, hiding any trace of what he was feeling inside. That was something that he had mastered that Merlin still failed spectacularly at: hiding his emotions.

"_We_?" Merlin asked with a groan. That would mean being dragged outside into the cold and trek to the other side of the castle, just to look at one guard for all of about two seconds.

Arthur didn't respond, just smirked in a way that gave Merlin the answer. Rolling his eyes, Merlin stood back from the door to allow Arthur to pass him, before following him at the distance that was required of a servant. He no longer realised that he did this; it was just something that they had both been accustomed to during their time together.

Even with having to trudge through the snow, it didn't take them long to check all of the guards. Before long, Arthur was just examining the last of them whilst Merlin was staring at the bottom of his trousers in amazement. He always forgot how wet snow made you. Everything up to his knees was soaked. He glanced up to see that Arthur was heading back his way, the relief of his duty being over obvious on his face. Out here, there was no one to try and hide it from; Merlin already knew that he found it tedious. Their travels had taken them all the way out to the gates, with nothing but untouched snow spreading around them for almost as far as the eye could see.

Arthur was lost in his own thoughts as he headed towards his manservant. He was trying to remember the best place to go sledging was. He was sure that there was a really good hill nearby. However, he didn't want to have to check because his father would disapprove of what he would call childish behaviour and Gaius would prattle on about the dangers of speeding down a hill…

He didn't have to think for too long. With a sudden gasp, he found himself receiving a face full of snow. Startled, he looked up, the water dripping of his face. Merlin was standing a little way off, trying his utmost to look innocent. Unluckily for him, there was no one else around to blame, and besides, Arthur had already seen the melting snow dripping from his hand as well as the telltale signs around his feet.

Without saying a word, Arthur crouched down and began moulding snowballs. By the time that Merlin dared a look back, the prince had a row of them lined up in front of him and was lightly tossing one between his hands, his eyes fixed on Merlin.

Even from the distance Merlin was at, Arthur could see him visibly gulp. The look on his face seemed to indicate that hitting Arthur the first time had been more fluke than aim, and now he had nothing ready to defend himself with.

With painstakingly slowness, Arthur began to draw his arm back. Merlin was looking frantically around for something behind which he could take cover, but he was out of luck. He had no time to hide before the first of the missiles came flying at him. Thinking of nothing else that he could do, Merlin ducked. To his surprise, the snowball flew straight over him; Arthur had obviously not banked on him reacting at all. Crouched in the snow, Merlin's hands working at lightning speed, forming balls out of the powder in front of him.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough. Altering his aim, Arthur let lose another one. Smirking with satisfaction, he was more than pleased when it hit Merlin square in the head, causing droplets of water to shimmer in the pale sunlight, providing a contrast against the blackness of his hair.

His smugness didn't last long, however. Merlin had finally finished his first few snowballs and was starting to throw them back. Most of them went wide, but a few provided a true aim. When a lucky shot caught Arthur on the back of his neck, sending icy cold water cascading down the inside of his collar, the prince declared war.

Before Merlin had even realised what a good shot it had been, Arthur was upon him. Seizing handfuls of snow, he tossed them continuously at the warlock as he crossed the small distance that remained, each shot finding their mark even with Merlin's attempts at escaping the bombardment. Scrambling through the snow, Merlin's skinny form was providing no match for Arthur's more muscular one. Running was almost impossible, and within a few strides, Merlin stumbled. Taking advantage of his opponent's weaknesses, Arthur took the risk and sped up. There was no way that Merlin could escape him, he had been trained since birth, after all: something that he reminded his servant off nearly every time they 'trained'.

The same thought seemed to have crossed Merlin's mind as he tried to get back up again. Abandoning his attempts to find his feet, Merlin instead stayed crouched. Working as quickly as possible, he soon had a reasonable amount of snowballs lined up in front of him, meaning that he could at least give Arthur as good as he got. Or attempt too, anyway…

Arthur reached Merlin long before the warlock was expecting it. He had just finished a snowball and turned to see where Arthur had got to, only to find the prince standing directly over him, an arrogant smirk firmly in place. Letting out a surprised squawk that he didn't even try to deny, Merlin grasped the nearest snowball and launched it blindly at the prince. Arthur didn't move a muscle as he watched the snow soar gracefully over his shoulder, maintaining his imposing position over the poor boy at his feet. Looking Merlin straight in the eye, Arthur's grin widened as he ever so slowly stretched his arms out over Merlin's head, noticing how fearfully the younger boy's eyes followed his hands. Just as slowly, he tipped his arms and opened his hands, sending a shower of snow over Merlin. Gasping from the cold, Merlin tried to roll away, but Arthur simply followed, giving him no escape.

**Ohh, mean Arthur! More snow to come in the final part of this story :(**

**Can't believe that there is only one more chapter to go after this...**


	8. Winter II

**I know, i know, i'm reall really late with getting this part out! I'm sorry! What with going back to school and everything, i haven't had the oppurtunity! *slaps wrist*.**

**Anyway, here is the final instalment to Man for all Seasons! Hope you enjoy it!**

Eventually, the snow in his hands ran out. Taking advantage of the fact that Arthur was momentarily defenceless, Merlin plunged his arm back and to his surprise, felt his fingers hit the smooth surface of one of the balls he had made earlier. Latching on to it, he chucked it as hard as he dared at Arthur. This time, there was no miss. Not having time to react, Arthur once again found himself with a face full of snow.

That did it for the normally unbeatable prince. None of his knights could beat him with steel; there was no way that he was going to allow his _servant_ to beat him with snow. Doing the first thing that came into his head, the prince reacted instinctively. Sliding one foot under Merlin's, he caused the unbalanced boy to fall into the snow, flat out. Then, almost casually, he placed his snowy foot in the middle of his back, leaving Merlin with no way to escape the cold and wetness that was sinking through his clothes with every passing second.

"You prat!" he muttered, loud enough for Arthur to hear him. That also proved to be a mistake. Leaning more heavily on his foot, Arthur bent over.

"What was that, Merlin? You didn't happen to call me a prat did you? Well, you know that I can't let that go unpunished!" so saying, the prince once more filled his hands with snow. Keeping his foot firmly placed on Merlin's back, he used his free hand to pull the edge of Merlin's collar away. Then the charming prince emptied his hands down Merlin's back, making him yelp.

"Oi!" Merlin yelled, shuddering as the snow made its way down his back. Thankfully, Arthur finally removed his foot, allowing the warlock to stand and empty it out of the bottom of his shirt. Merlin stood watching Arthur warily, not sure what the prince's next move would be. But Arthur seemed to have had a new idea.

He was gazing out over the land, back towards the castle, his mind working frantically. There was a steady hill from here back to the castle. How many times had Merlin complained as they tried to plough their way up it to get to the gate? That would mean that to get to the castle again, they would have to go downhill.

"Have they finished replacing the gate yet?" he asked Merlin, who looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Wondering where this change of conversation was going, Merlin debated whether or not it would be safe to answer the question. Arthur had that look about him that usually meant that something crazy was about to happen.

"Yes, they finished it two days ago. Why?"

"Two days," Arthur murmured thoughtfully. Merlin could almost see his brain working, although what he was trying to work out was beyond the warlock. Sometimes, it was just too much effort to work out what was going through that prince's head.

"So that means that parts of the old gate are still there?"

"Yes. They've broken it into smaller pieces for easier transportation but the weather means that they haven't moved it yet."  
"Excellent. Come on then, what are you waiting for?" with those words, Arthur strode off, back towards the gate. Utterly nonplussed, Merlin followed him. He hadn't the foggiest idea what Arthur was thinking about and wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

The guard looked surprised to see the prince back so soon after his inspection, especially as he had random wet splashes all over him. Not to mention the fact that the servant following him was completely soaked from head to toe and looking rather warily at his master. However, the guard knew his place and said nothing. Not even when the prince disappeared into the area where the old gate was lying and proceeded to drag a reasonable sized bit back out again did he say anything.

"Are you going to help at all, Merlin?" the prince asked his companion, who hurried over, looking clueless. Handing his load over to the servant, he motioned for him to start dragging it back the way that they had come. Merlin tried, but the gate was so heavy that Arthur was forced to help him if his plan was to be put into action at all. The guard watched with raised eyebrows as master and servant worked together as equals to pull the gate back out of his sight. He had heard that they had a closer bond that normal master and servants, but had refused to believe it. The prince had a track record with being harsh to servants. Maybe for once the rumour was true, for there was no way that this servant meekly responded to anything Arthur threw at him. The wet splashes on the prince indicated this much.

When they reached the churned up snow that indicated where they had been, Arthur stopped again. Impatiently pushing Merlin out of the way, he manoeuvred the gate until it was at an angle that was to his satisfaction. As he set about making quick calculations, it finally dawned on Merlin what Arthur was up to.

"You can't be serious!" he exclaimed, looking at both the gate and the prince in horror.

"Oh, yes, Merlin. I am. This is our transport home," Arthur finished his calculations and went to climb onto the gate before he realised what was missing. Undoing his belt, he told Merlin to do the same. Lashing the two of them together, the prince then tied it to the gate, making a rough steering mechanism.

"On you get," he told his servant, not missing the horrified looks that he was receiving. Climbing on himself, he positioned himself at the back of the gate, the belts firmly wrapped around his hands. Wishing that he could be anywhere but here, Merlin sat down in front of Arthur, sliding himself in between the belts.

With a delighted chuckle, Arthur then told Merlin to use his hands to get them moving, digging frantically in the snow himself. Very slowly, the makeshift sledge began to edge forward, eventually gaining more speed as the momentum of the slope started to carry them itself.

Both passengers jerked their hands back in as the sledge sped up. Soaring down the hill, Merlin squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wanting the hellish ride to be over. Arthur, on the other hand, was loving every moment. His eyes were open wide, drinking in the sights as different parts of the kingdom flashed past him. He could just about register the shocked expressions on people's faces as their crown prince went shooting past them on an old gate, his servant looking terrified in front of him.

Whooping with delight, Arthur realised with a start that he hadn't thought of how they were going to stop. The hill led straight into the castle, meaning that if he didn't do something soon, they were going to crash headlong into a brick wall. Pulling strongly on one of the belts, Arthur succeeded in turning one of the front corners of the sledge, sending them spinning around and slowing them down considerably. The turn had been so sharp, however, that both passengers were thrown out and dumped unceremoniously into the snow.

Merlin lay where he landed, hoping desperately that if he didn't move, Arthur would forget that he was there and so not be able to come up with any new type of torment. Arthur, however, sprang immediately to his feet, a manic grin spreading across his face.

"That was smooth," Arthur looked up sharply at the voice, finding himself face to face with Morgana. A small smile was playing teasingly across her lips as she watched Arthur bend down to untangle the belts from around his feet. His smile faded somewhat when another figure came into view behind Morgana, obviously having been accompanying her on her daily walk.

Uther, however, just stared at his son, eyebrows raised. He said not a word, trying to hide his emotions behind the iron mask that he always wore. It wouldn't do for Arthur to notice that his father actually approved of him having fun for a change; it made him a lot more manageable when he was needed for duty. Last winter had taught Uther that much. A bored Arthur is more than a match for anyone. Striding off, Uther motioned to Morgana, who hurried to join him. It was only when they had passed beyond Arthur that the king allowed a smile to grace his features, something that he was not used to doing. Morgana saw it and smiled herself, mouthing something back to Arthur.

Merlin had just managed to coax himself up out of the snow again when he noticed how tense Arthur was. Following his gaze, Merlin felt his heart drop when he saw the king striding off, looking impressive even over snow. However, Morgana turned just before they reached the corner and mouthed something that looked a lot like 'he's fine' back to Arthur. Thinking that he had misinterpreted the sign, Merlin glanced at Arthur, noticing that his shoulder's had sagged in relief.

"I'm hungry," the prince announced suddenly. Grabbing Merlin by the arm, he then marched back to his rooms, barking out orders to a poor boy that they past along the way to fetch them some food.

Once they had reached his chambers, Arthur's pretence vanished and he burst out laughing.

"You should have seen your face, Merlin!" chuckling to himself, Arthur climbed out his wet clothes, throwing them over his shoulder to Merlin, who dutifully picked them up again. By the time that he was dressed in something warm and dry, the food had arrived. Several types of piping hot stew made its way onto Arthur's table, and the prince eagerly pulled some of them towards him. To Merlin's confusion, he kept pushing some to the other side of the table. Rolling his eyes, Arthur saw that the idiot was just going to stand there.

"Well? Eat something then, Merlin. We still have to get the gate back up to the top of the hill again."

"What?" Merlin exclaimed. Once had been more than enough for him.

Too busy shovelling the hot food into his mouth, Arthur didn't respond, but instead gestured for Merlin to sit down.

The food was delicious; there could be no denying that. The warmth seeped into the warlock, making him feel a lot better. Being inside again made him appreciate just how wet his clothes had been and he had started to shiver slightly, even with the hot food in his stomach.

Once they had finished eating, Arthur stood and stretched. He was smiling again, eager to get back outside and experience the rush that he got from flying practically uncontrollably down at hill. It was an amazing sensation, yet the prince couldn't understand why Merlin did get the same kick from it that he did. Looking at the boy, Arthur frowned slightly. There was almost a slight blue tinge to his lips and he was clearly shivering. Arthur swore to himself, he had forgotten that Merlin was far wetter than he had been and that his clothes were much thinner than the prince's any way.

After disappearing behind his screen, Arthur reappeared again, one of his shirts in his hand, along with his spare jacket. Tossing them to Merlin, he almost ordered his poor servant to get changed. Merlin didn't mind though, Arthur's clothes were a lot warmer than his own. The only problem was that they completely swamped him. The shirt alone almost came to his knees and he kept stumbling over the end of the coat. It was lucky that he was fractionally taller than the prince, or the coat would have to be left behind. As it was, Merlin could just about manage with navigating his way around the hems without tripping up every time.

Between them, they managed to hold the shirt in with a belt and secure the coat with another, meaning that the servant was a lot more comfortable than he had been in his own attire. Following Arthur back out into the snow, Merlin felt like that he could no longer complain. Of course, he didn't _want_ to have to go down the hill on that accursed gate again, but there would not have been many masters who made sure that their servants were warmly enough dressed, aside from Morgana.

They managed to drag the gate back up the hill twice more after they had eaten. Eventually though, even Arthur had to admit that there wasn't enough daylight left for them to carry on safely. Although if you had asked Merlin, he would have said that it was never safe in the first place.

By the time that he had tidied away all of the wet clothes and made sure that the fire was roaring in Arthur's chambers, the sky outside was an inky black. The dark clouds that had been closing it throughout the entire afternoon, promising a fresh load of snow for the morning, obscured the stars. After spending most of the day tired and wet, Merlin had lost a great deal of his initial excitement and was not so sure that he wanted there to be more snow. No doubt Arthur would have thought up numerous amounts of things that for him meant fun, and for his poor servant, some form of torture.

Walking back to Gaius's chambers, Merlin couldn't stop the yawn that he had been suppressing for a while finally break through. He always underestimated how much effort it was to do a simple thing such as walk when it was through snow. And yes, he may have been very wet and cold, not to mention terrified at times, but the day had been a fun one.

"What are you wearing, Merlin?" Gaius's voice cut through the warlock's daydreams like a knife. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him and blinked around in surprise when he noticed that he had reached his destination already.

"Hmm?" confused, Merlin glanced down at himself and realised with a start that he was still wearing Arthur's clothes. No wonder Gaius was looking at him funny. "Oh, I got wet, and then Arthur wanted to go back out again so made me put this on."

Gaius raised an eyebrow in his traditional manner when Merlin tried and failed to stifle another yawn. He had heard about their antics when he had been giving the king another balm for his shoulder and was just relieved that Merlin hadn't ended up in the stocks again. It was unlike the king to be that lineate. As the physician looked pointedly at the young warlock, Merlin quickly got the message and crossed the room, heading up towards bed.

"'Night, Gaius," he called over his shoulder as he started to climb the stairs. He was already in his room by the time that the physician answered; amazed at how much like lead his legs were feeling. Climbing out of Arthur's shirt, he pulled his own on and snuggled under the blanket. Realising that he was in for another cold night, he got back out again and reached over to where he had draped Arthur's coat. Spreading it over the bed like an extra blanket, Merlin slipped back into bed, smiling softly as the warmth from the coat meant that he was able to curl up comfortably, without shivering for a change. It was with a smile that Merlin slowly closed his eyes; unable to believe quite how quickly another year had passed. Time certainly flew in Camelot.

**That's it, all over for another story! :( Hope you all enjoyed and please remember to review!**

**Thanks as always to MagicbyMerlin for betaing this for me!**


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